Chancellor's Parashah Commentary

Parashat Naso
Naso 4:21-7:89
June 1, 1996 14 Sivan 5756

Ismar Schorsch is the chancellor of The Jewish Theological Seminary.

You will indulge me, I hope, if I stay with the minor biblical figure
of Nethanel son of Zuar, leader of the tribe of Issachar, for another
week. The birth of my grandson Nathaniel exquisitely coincides
with our reading about his namesake in the Torah. How often do
the weekly words of the Torah relate to the events in our personal
lives at the moment. Interpreting Scripture is a two–way street:
as we struggle to penetrate its opaque world, it will often grace us
with a comment of poignant relevance.

Toward the end of this week's rich parasha, we are treated to the
gifts brought by the twelve tribal leaders of ancient Israel at the
completion of the Tabernacle: "six draught carts and twelve oxen,
a cart for every two chieftains and an ox for each one (Numbers
7:3)." Thereafter, they dedicate the altar. Each day, for twelve
successive days a single chieftain makes a lavish contribution of
expensive utensils and animals to initiate the sacrificial system.
Strikingly, these individual gifts are absolutely identical. No
invidious distinctions are admitted (Numbers 7:10–83). The other
time of the year that we read this section of the Torah in the
synagogue is during Hanukkah, a festival that commemorates the
rededication of the Temple altar by Judah Maccabee in 164
B.C.E. History expands the meaning of the
text.

Nevertheless, the repetition of twelve identical gifts is slightly
numbing, were it not for the ingenuity of midrash. Sensitive to the
slightest variation in the text, whether stylistic or orthographic,
the Rabbis turned an inert list into a moral tale.

Unlike us, the Rabbis did not regard the generosity of the tribal
leaders as natural or self–evident. Their sudden appearance
betrays a note of discomfort, if not downright urgency. The fact
is that these same leaders were nowhere to be seen when Moses
had earlier issued the call for the building materials of the
Tabernacle. The midrash takes us back to chapter 35 of the book
of Exodus in order to feel the force of the words of our parasha:
"And the chieftains of Israel... drew near and brought their offering
before the Lord (Numbers 7:2–3)." A text is hard to fathom in
isolation; we need to contextualize it.

The midrash notes that in Exodus, the chieftains were not the first
but the last to give, and then not for the Tabernacle but only for
the priestly garments: "And the chieftains brought lapis lazuli and
other stones for setting, for the ephod and for the breastplate...
(Exodus 35:27)." Accordingly, the midrash imagines that when
Moses issued a general call to every Israelite – "Take from among
you gifts to the Lord, everyone whose heart so moves him shall
bring them (Exodus 35:5)" –– the chieftains took offense. Why had
Moses not asked them first? In pique they decided to withhold
their offering. They would not give till the end of the campaign,
when it would be clear to all how ungenerous the people had been
and what still remained to be collected.

But they miscalculated. The Torah stresses that the people gave
enthusiastically and without limit, enough to build the entire
sanctuary and then some. The intensity of their response
prompted Moses to issue a second call: "Let no man or woman
make further effort toward gifts for the sanctuary (Exodus 36:6)."
Thus, there was nothing left for the leaders to contribute but the
few precious stones for the garments of the high priest. God
encoded the episode in the text. In praise of the people it was
written: "So the people stopped bringing: their efforts had been
more than enough for all the tasks to be done (Exodus 36:6–7)."
As rebuke of the leaders' unwarranted pride, the Torah dropped
the letter "yud" from their title (Exodus 35:27 –
vehanesiim, written without a single "yud"), as if
their leadership at the time was bereft of divine grace (signified
by the "yud" representing God's name).

This is the backdrop of our parasha, a tale of grandeur and greed
concocted out of textual fragments. But the lesson had not been
lost on the leaders. When the Tabernacle was finished, they
hurried to make amends. The midrash credits Nethanel son of
Zuar with the idea of bringing wagons and oxen. The Tabernacle
was designed to be a mobile sanctuary. But how? So Nethanel
counseled his peers to contribute the means. The midrash
accounts thereby for the suddenness of their appearance and the
nature of their gift.

The detail about Nethanel's reconciling roles also helps to explain
another puzzle. Why is he the second leader to make his tribe's
offering in the ceremony dedicating the altar? The order of the
presenters certainly does not follow the order of Jacob's twelve
sons by birth, in which Issachar ranked ninth. The answer of the
midrash is that the sequence of presenters corresponds to the
arrangement of the tribes around the Tabernacle (Numbers 2:1
034) and is at least partially determined by merit. Thus Nahshon
son of Amminadab of the tribe of Judah heads the list because he
was the first leader to plunge into the Sea of Reeds. While the
other chieftains were oblivious to the danger of the moment and
argued over who deserved to go first, Nahson acted with
decisiveness. In Hebrew, the name "Nahshon" is nearly identical
with the word for maelstrom, nahshol, thus preserving an
echo of his heroic deed.

Nethanel came second as a reward for the sage counsel he gave
his fellow leaders. But not without protest from Reuben, Jacob's
firstborn, who complained to God that his descendant on earth
should go second. The complaint was rejected and Moses
instructed to proceed. Hence the verb at the beginning of
Numbers 7:19, written without a "yud," could be read as
a command as well as a simple past tense. God had overruled
Reuben.

Not only was Nethanel rewarded for his sage counsel; his wisdom
proved to be a harbinger of things to come. The territory of
Issachar in the land of Israel became known as a place of Torah.
The book of I Chronicles (12:33) spoke of its denizens as endowed
with the ability "to interpret the signs of the times," which the
midrash celebrated as excelling in the study of Torah. From the
loins of Issachar would come the religious leaders of the first two
Jewish commonwealths.

Adjacent to its territory in the lower Galilee dwelled the tribe of
Zebulun. And Eliab son of Helon of Zebulun is the third chieftain
to offer his gifts to the altar (Numbers 7:24). Again the midrash
fills in the gaps. Endowed with an equal love of Torah, the two
tribes forged an alliance in which Zebulun would support Issachar
financially to advance the frontiers of Torah. Hence Eliab follows
Nathanel. As the descendants of the latter withdrew into the
tents of Torah, the progeny of the former went forth to ply their
trades. In the words of Moses' final blessing: "Rejoice, O Zebulun,
on your journeys, and Issachar in your tents (Deuteronomy
33:18)." Their collaboration secured the centrality of Torah in the
life of Israel. Nethanel, my grandson's forebear, founded a
religious culture that would endure till the millennium.

To read our parasha in conjunction with these midrashim is to
transpose a flat melody into a rich symphony.